Experiment of Fate ~ A Bellamy Blake story

Chapter 12 - Greatest fear

"That's where you're wrong!" Pike's voice boomed over the chaos as he stepped forward, his eyes glinting with dark intent. "You will be my greatest weapon!" He stood in the ashes of the guards Isla had disintegrated, watching her with a twisted sense of triumph.

Isla felt her pulse quicken, the fire within her still burning, but not out of control—yet. She felt Lincoln's hands on her shoulders, his voice desperate as he tried to pull her away. "Isla, stop! You didn't want to be his weapon! You need to run!" His grip tightened, but her skin was too hot, too volatile. Lincoln hissed in pain as the heat seared his palms.

"No!" Isla gasped, horrified at the sight of her brother's pain. She tried to pull back the flames, to regain control, but she didn't have time. Pike struck swiftly, a blow to the side of her head sending her world spinning into darkness.

When Isla awoke, her head throbbed with pain. She blinked against the harsh light filtering through the trees, her arms restrained behind her back. Panic surged through her veins as she realized where she was—outside, surrounded by guards. Her eyes flickered, desperate to find Lincoln, and when they landed on him, her heart shattered.

Lincoln knelt on the muddy ground, his head held high, with Pike standing in front of him. Isla could barely hear their words over the pounding of her heart, but Lincoln's face was calm, resolved. His gaze met hers, and he smiled softly, his voice carrying over the rain that had begun to fall.

"I love you, little one," he said, his voice filled with all the warmth and tenderness she had known from him her entire life.

"No!" Isla screamed, the sound tearing from her chest like a wounded animal. She fought against the restraints, her body thrashing as she tried to summon her fire. But the guards held her back, their grip ironclad.

Lincoln lifted his face to the sky as the rain began to fall in soft droplets, mixing with the mud and the blood that stained the ground. His acceptance, his peace, was more than Isla could bear. Her brother—her protector—was about to be taken from her, and she was powerless to stop it.

Pike stepped closer to Lincoln, pulling a pistol from his belt. The cold steel gleamed under the wet, gray light as he aimed it steadily at Lincoln's head.

"No! Stop!" Isla's voice broke, raw with desperation. She summoned every ounce of strength, her fire surging uncontrollably, the heat searing through her veins like molten lava. The guards holding her screamed as they were engulfed in flames, their hands burning away as she tore herself free.

But she was too late.

The gunshot echoed through the clearing, piercing the air like a cruel dagger. Isla's world shattered in an instant as Lincoln's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

A scream ripped from her throat, a sound of pure, agonizing heartbreak. She ran to him, collapsing beside his still body, her hands trembling as she gathered him into her arms. The warmth of his skin was already fading, replaced by the cold, unrelenting reality of death.

"Lincoln," she sobbed, cradling his head in her lap, her fingers brushing over his face as though she could will him back to life. "No, no, no... please... not you." Her tears mixed with the rain, her sobs breaking the silence of the forest around them.

Pike watched from above, his expression hard and unforgiving as he looked down at Isla. He saw her anguish, her power unleashed in fury, and he smiled. To him, this was victory. This was proof that he could harness her fire for his own ends.

"You see that, everybody?" Pike's voice rang out, addressing the remaining guards. "This magical girl will be what saves us all. Her fire will make sure we survive, and the grounders fall."